Carson looked over his shoulder at Serena, disappointment clearly registering on his face. “Not here, huh?”
“No, she’s not,” Serena insisted, crossing the room to her closet.
Carson waved her back. Taking out his weapon, he pointed it at the closet door and then threw it open. Justice ran in and immediately nosed the hot-pink sweater on the closet floor. The German shepherd moved the sweater over toward his master.
Picking it up, Carson held the sweater aloft and looked accusingly at Serena.
“I said I saw her yesterday,” Serena pointed out. “Demi must have dropped her sweater here when I wasn’t paying attention. I never said she wasn’t here yesterday, only that she’s not here now—and she isn’t,” Serena insisted.
Drawn by all the commotion and the headlights from the police vehicles when they drove to the house, Serena’s brother Anders, who lived in a cabin on the property and worked as the Double C foreman, came into his sister’s bedroom.
“Serena’s right. Demi was here at the house yesterday afternoon, but she left and she hasn’t been back since. Trust me, I can’t abide that little bounty hunter, and I’d tell you if she was here. But she’s not,” Anders said with finality.
“And neither one of you would know where she went or might consider going if she was running from the police?” Carson pressed.
Serena and her brother answered his question in unison.
“No.”
“Here.” Carson shoved the hot-pink sweater over to Anders. “Take this and put it somewhere, will you? The scent is throwing my dog off.”
Anders frowned at the sweater Carson had just shoved into his hand. “Sorry. Hot pink’s not my color.”
Carson wasn’t amused by the foreman’s dry wit, not when he was trying to find his brother’s killer.
“Just get rid of it for now. As long as that’s around, Justice can’t home in on anything else Demi might have left behind that could wind up proving useful.”
Muttering something about not being an errand boy under his breath and looking none too happy about having Carson on the premises, Anders took the sweater and marched out of Serena’s suite. Wadding the sweater up, he tossed it into the linen closet that was down the hall and shut the door.
Carson looked back at his dog. Now that the offending piece of clothing was gone, Justice became totally docile.
“C’mon, boy, keep on looking,” he urged his German shepherd partner. “Seek!”
Responding to the command, Justice quickly covered the remainder of the upper floor, moving from one area to another, but nothing seemed to spark a reaction from the dog. Nothing caused him to behave as if he had detected any telltale scent that indicated that the woman he was hunting was hiding somewhere on the floor or had even left anything else behind.
Serena kept her distance but still followed the detective, shadowing him step for step. For now, Lora was cooperating and went on dozing.
Coming back through the adjacent nursery, Carson made his way into Serena’s oversize bedroom. His eyes met hers.
“See, I told you she wasn’t here,” Serena told him. When his face remained totally impassive, she heard herself insisting. “You’re looking for the wrong person, Detective. Demi didn’t kill Bo. There’s got to be some kind of mistake.”
About to leave her suite and go back downstairs, Carson stopped abruptly. Justice skidded to a stop next to him.
“My brother’s dead. He wrote Demi’s name in his own blood on the asphalt right above his head. Her necklace was found at the crime scene, and there’s a witness who said he saw Demi running away from the area some fifteen minutes before Bo’s body was found in the parking lot. From what I can see, the only mistake here was made by Demi,” he informed Serena curtly, doing his best to hold his anger in check.
Part of the anger he was experiencing was because of the crime itself and part of it was due to the fact that having seen Serena holding her baby like that when he’d first entered had stirred up painful memories for him, memories he wanted to leave buried.
Serena shook her head, refusing to buy into the scenario that Demi had killed her ex-boyfriend in some sort of a fit of misguided jealousy. That was not the Demi she had come to know.
“Look,” she began, trying to talk some sense into the detective, “I admit that it looks bad right now—”
Carson barely managed to keep a dismissive oath from escaping his lips.
Serena didn’t seem to notice as she forged on. “There’s no way that the Demi Colton I know is a killer. Yes, she has a temper, but she wouldn’t kill anyone, especially not her ex-boyfriend.”
Carson looked at her sharply. What wasn’t she telling him?
“Why?” he questioned.
Did Demi’s cousin know something that he didn’t know, or was she just being protective of the other woman? Was it simply a matter of solidarity between women, or whatever it was called, or was there something more to Serena’s certainty, because she did look pretty certain?
Serena began to say something else, then stopped herself at the last moment, saying only, “Because she just wouldn’t, that’s all.”
Carson looked at the chief’s sister closely. She knew something. Something she wasn’t telling him, he thought. His gut was telling him that he was right. But he couldn’t exactly browbeat her into admitting what she was trying to hide.
He was just going to have to keep an eye on the chief’s sister, he decided.
Just then, the baby began to fuss.
“Shh.” Serena soothed her daughter. She started rocking the child, doing her best to lull Lora back to sleep.
But Lora wouldn’t settle down. The fussing became louder.
Glancing up, Serena was going to excuse herself when she saw the strange look on the detective’s face. In her estimation he looked to be in some sort of pain or distress. Sympathy instantly stirred within her. She hated seeing pain of any kind.
She had to be losing her mind, feeling sympathy for a man who seemed so bent on arresting her cousin. It was obvious that he had already convicted Demi without a trial and looked more than willing to drag Demi to jail.
However, despite all this, for some strange reason, she was moved by the underlying distress she saw in his eyes.
“Is something wrong, Detective Gage?” She waited for him to respond, but he didn’t seem to hear her despite their close proximity. “Detective Gage?” she said more loudly.
Suddenly realizing that she was talking to him, Carson looked at the chief’s sister. She seemed to be waiting for him to respond to something she’d obviously said.
“What?” he all but snapped.
The man was in no danger of winning a congeniality award, Serena thought. “I asked you if something was wrong.”
Damn it, Carson upbraided himself, he was going to have to work on his poker face. “You mean other than the obvious?”
Serena mentally threw up her hands. This was hopeless. Why did she even care if something was bothering this boorish man who had come stomping into her house, disrupting everyone without displaying so much as an iota of remorse that he was doing it. Never mind that her brother had led this